She… My desire… My illusion

drawing her figure, on canvas of my mind, I lost the rest of her

she sat straight while I stared at her, and when she noticed, I looked away

writing her premise on my wrist with finger quill, I breathed her in

she stood up to leave, twirling her curls; I followed motion of her feet

yearning for her to look back at me, I gulped in rapid drinks of air

she was gone, leaving a trail behind, of her lilac, orange perfume

reclining on the couch, I surmised the baffling curves of her stature

she didn’t appear again, it was the very last I had seen of her

cradling the memory of her image, I hide behind the red drape

she was some one I had desired, but never accepted, it wasn’t love

silencing sound of her laughter, I manipulate myself to sleep

she is somewhere thriving in fine arts, suturing me to random past

reminiscing, I grieve to grudge her, shriek to spite her, dream to daunt her

she reflected a beautiful picture of what could have been crafted

I couldn’t sleep when I had her; I can’t after I had deserted her

she was hoping to be the pivotal pain of my hurtful hard heart

I had an idea, what she was, who she was, she was never been

she was rupturing the nerves of my thought; she wanted me to want her

I didn’t, she was exasperated, she left, she went far, she was gone

she left a trail before which I bowed, the sands of which I kissed for long

I change sides, changing sides, here and there, right and left, I am destitute

she took revenge, I let her go, she let me become a living dead

now Erato winks at my stimulated prudence, I embrace her

but she is an illusion, I have my arms crossed over my shoulders


The prompt today at dVerse is to write American Sentences. It is a poetic form created by Allen Ginsberg. The sentences above could be read separately(the reason why I didn’t put punctuation at the end of each one of them) or otherwise together as a single poem.

This is tagged as the poem for 15 November for NaBloPoMo. I have written 15 poems by far this month… to check them all out, just drag your cursor to the drop-down menu above, Home, beneath which you would find the category by the name of Poetry and within which there is the category of NaBloPoMo.

Image source

26 thoughts on “She… My desire… My illusion

  1. I do like the story you wrote here, HA. Very dream-like and somewhat ethereal. I am glad she turned out to be an illusion!

    (I also did not want to write random sentences.)


  2. nice… a whole story in american sentences….her lilac, orange perfume… makes me wonder how that smells.. i find it most intriguing if a scent is connected with a color…nice…one of the ingredients of my perfume is pink pepper


  3. Glenn Buttkus says:

    Anmol, I tip my quill to you def for sure; you wrote 24 separate American Haiku, all perfect, all as one incredible run-on Faulkner-like Bear sentence, all related & interlinked. My attempt had a dozen sentences, but your effort dwarfed the rest; my fave for today, sir.


  4. This is ambitious and really well realized. As I read it, I understood why you used past tense (and in some places past perfect) – I would recommend re-writing in present tense to the extent possible and see whether you like the change that results. I think you will find it will read faster and make the reader feel quicker; however, that may not be the thing you are going for. There is a contemplative, grieving tone to this as is. Well done!


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